


Paroxysm

by Writer_Child



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie) - Freeform, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), i don't know how to tag, like really mild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 03:14:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17296688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writer_Child/pseuds/Writer_Child
Summary: What are you going to say to him?The question he had pushed away for five years.What are you going to say to him?-I don’t know.Well, you have all this free time until he wakes up to think about it. You can’t focus on anything else so why not pass the time formulating the things you need to tell him? Those things you have been wanting to say to him the instant you knew he was alive?





	Paroxysm

**Author's Note:**

> Paroxysm: the sudden outburst of emotion  
> I thought this title seemed fitting for the content.  
> This is my first fan-fiction so I hope you guys enjoy it. Please leave kudos and comments. Who knows, I might just write another fan-fiction one day.
> 
> **Edited**

#### Paroxysm

Steve didn’t think it was fate. He definitely didn’t think it was destiny. But he didn’t necessarily think it was coincidence either. If it wasn’t one or the other, then he supposed it must be none at all. Did he really need a name for it? Did he really need a label? He should just be happy that it happened at all.  
When it happened, he hadn’t had a chance to really think. Bucky, _his Bucky_ , was alive and in the same time as himself. The reason Steve hadn’t been able to fully process the return of one Bucky Barnes was because, well, the Winter Soldier was trying to kill him. It was difficult to not already have so many racing thoughts but to also be preoccupied with dodging lethal attacks from your once-thought-dead best friend made it even more of a challenge.  
That was back in 2014. Steve got a brief understanding and synopsis of what had happened to Bucky but not the full story. Most of his information came from Natasha or the file she had stolen for him. _Tortured, brainwashed, used solely as weapon and nothing else. For seventy years. By HYDRA._  
Since he woke up on that beach, Steve had wanted to go out and search for the disappeared Winter Soldier. He had gotten a pretty good start, however, he was quickly interrupted as Ultron decided he wanted to mess things up. During that battle, his mind needed to be one hundred percent focused on the task at hand, not pondering the Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier situation.  
2016 rolled around quicker than Steve had realized and that was probably one of the most painful years of his life. Not only had he been forced to fight his friends and be the lead contributor to breaking the Avengers apart, but he had to be around a Bucky who was lost and confused and broken. Seeing that ripped Steve’s chest apart. In that hellhole of a flat in Bucharest is where he would have liked to just _talk_ with Bucky-- to explain all of the things that happened and help him in whatever way he could. He wanted to tell him something important.  
But once again, Steve was given no time. If the Accords hadn’t happened, if Tony hadn’t insisted on fighting and turning Bucky in, then maybe. Maybe they would have had time to converse.  
Throughout the turmoil, Bucky had successfully achieved an expressional state of practically nothing. The walls he had been forced to build so long ago hadn’t broken down and now that he was vulnerable in a time and state he didn’t understand, why would he take down his defenses now?  
Back in the ‘30s and ‘40s Bucky had been one smooth, confident fella who sauntered around Brooklyn on weekends with a devilishly handsome smile that looked as if the world had been handed to him in a plate.  
In 2016, though, it was clear that that man had died when he fell off the train; and Bucky had no recollection of him.  
Steve understood. He understood his best friend’s confusion, his strong walls that refused to fall, casting out anything that could make him more vulnerable than he already was. After so many decades under HYDRA’s thumb, so many years being tortured and brainwashed, it was only natural for Bucky to react in that way; Steve got it. 

When the civil war was over, when Steve had relinquished his shield and therefore his title as Captain America, when Steve was charged as being a fugitive, they had time. But instead of talking, instead of _talking_ , Bucky had made the decision to go into cryo until the things tormenting his brain could be fixed. There he would remain until Shuri, the amazingly brilliant princess of Wakanda could find a “cure” for him.  
Steve hadn’t protested. He knew it was probably for the best. Besides, it was what Bucky wanted. After seventy goddamn years of HYDRA’s atrocities, Steve was happy to give James Buchanan Barnes what he wanted.  
Bucky was officially asleep and for awhile, Steve had just stood there, staring, his mind completely blank. When he got to the privacy of his own room, he broke down and wept.

While Bucky was in cryo, Steve nomadically jumped around the world on missions with Natasha and Sam taking out HYDRA bases. During his endeavors he tried not to think about Bucky at all. It surprised him how easy it was. His meanderings about the condition of his best friend, when he would be getting out, and what he would _say_ to him, were all pushed to the back of his mind so he could focus on things more important that moment.  
Even when he got back to base-- or the Quinjet or whatever shitty, run-down hotel they were staying in at the time-- the thoughts he didn’t want to think about had remained where they were. It had helped that Steve was exhausted after his missions. The Super Soldier serum could quickly heal any physical aches and pangs of fatigue, it could _not_ address the emotional distress. So, when he wanted to sleep to avoid thinking at all, his brain would fortunately comply.

***

He takes it back. The most painful thing that had happened to him did not occur in 2016, but roughly two years later.

Ever since Bucky had gotten out of cryo, Steve had visited Wakanda as often (and as long) as he could. When Steve couldn’t be there in person, well, apparently there was this magical technology called Skype. True, both of them liked to be near to each other and talk in person but Steve was dedicated to carrying out his missions and he still believed it was too dangerous to stay in one place for too long-- even in Wakanda. To make up for Steve’s absences, they talked as often as they could via video-chatting.  
Again, Steve refused to bring up the subjects he _deeply wanted_ to talk to Bucky about because he assumed that the only semi-stable man wasn’t ready for that. Plus, after all this time, Steve still had not managed to put his confusing, emotional, and built-up feelings into words; he wasn’t ready for it either.  
Encounters between them were surprisingly calm and fluid, they easily morphed back into each other’s lives, ceasing any and all awkwardness. Often times, they talked about menial topics, especially in the beginning: what had they done while the other was absent? what were they going to do when they had to part from the other? what were they going to do together? what did they have for lunch? Once Bucky was stable enough, they reminisced about life before and during the war a lot. It was Steve’s way of helping, hoping to slowly resurface Bucky’s memories.  
In person, everything was still the same except for the addition of Bucky dragging Steve around to places he had found in Wakanda. Sometimes it was a clear, secluded, secret lake or a bustling marketplace that they tended to stay on the borders of, away from the crowds. T’Challa had generously given them free access to the palace but the two of them rarely fulfilled his offer. Instead, Bucky would introduce him to the bastard goats he took care of.  
The best thing they did when they were together was to do nothing at all. Rare and brief sentences maybe be spoken but mostly they were just content being in each other’s presence.  
Early on, Bucky had gifted Steve with an artist’s notebook as well as a few mediums.  
“You remembered?” Steve couldn’t contain his happiness as Bucky placed the present in his hands.  
“Of course I remembered. Drawing was the only other thing you did besides getting into fights in alleys.”  
Steve ignored the jibe and continued aweing at the sketchbook.  
“Shuri helped me find the notebook. It was hard to find a look-a-like but she got one anyway.”  
Steve looked up, freezing in his tracks. Bucky was looking at him with a soft expression on his face. Steve set down the charcoal, pens, and pencils and observed the book better. It had a smooth leather cover and easily laid flat when opened. On the back was a print mark with the letters SGR encircled on the bottom right-hand corner.  
“It’s exactly like the one you gave me for my eighteenth birthday.”  
Before Bucky could reply, Steve had eliminated the space between them and threw his arms around him.  
In return, Steve would bring back books for Bucky from wherever he was at the time, sometimes in different languages, but Bucky loved those ones all the same.  
During those days of lethargy, Steve would put his sketchbook to good use, occasionally letting Bucky riffle through the pages, but the latter often spent a long time on each one of the drawings. Bucky would read his books. When they felt like talking during those mellow moments, Bucky would discuss his thoughts on the current book or would read aloud to fill the silence.  
And every once and awhile, when the weather permitted, they would lay outside of the hut and look up into the sky, most often at night.  
Just being _there together_ made them both immeasurably happy. 

Months rolled around like that. In the consistent routine they had. Bucky certainly seemed to enjoy it. He didn’t have to worry about stressful or dramatic changes and shifts as everything they did was in torpor, or similar to what they had done together earlier. Or maybe Bucky just looked like that because of Steve. He eyes were a brighter hue and no longer filled with angry and fearful exhaustion. Smiles, or at least small grins, appeared on his face more easily and his body was relaxed as he moved around languidly.  
Eventually, Steve carefully--and subtly at first-- drew Bucky out of his shell and got him to tell Steve about the experiences he had lived through as the Winter Soldier. Each time, Bucky said more and more, but he had caught on pretty quickly to what Steve was trying to do.  
“Steve?”  
“Hmm?”  
“I know what you’re doing.”  
“What do you mean?”  
Bucky scoffed and rolled his eyes. If they were together, he probably would have given Steve a hard but playful punch to the shoulder. But his tone remained serious and flat.  
“Don’t do this, Steve. Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m referring to.”  
Steve dropped his eyes to his keyboard and sighed. “I’m sorry, Buck. I just--” He took a long pause and bit the inside of his cheek, assembling his words meticulously to avoid accidentally saying the wrong thing.  
Bucky’s voice was surprisingly patient and calm as he asked, “You just what?”  
“I just thought if I would get you to talk about your time as the Winter Soldier, it would help you let go a little more and allow the guilt you carry to subside. I knew you wouldn’t have told me a word if I’d asked you outright. You’re pretty stubborn.”  
“ _Me?_ ” Bucky gasped in fake offence. “ _I’m_ stubborn? Steve, I could never get you to do anything you hadn’t already thought of doing first and when I wanted you to do something that you didn’t, all hell broke loose. I mean, Jesus Steve, I wasn’t the one who attempted to enlist in the army at least a thousand times.”  
Steve laughed. “Yeah, well, I suppose we’ve switched places then. You’re the stubborn one now.”  
“As if!” Bucky gave Steve a look he didn’t really know how to read. Bucky’s head was tilted slightly to the side, his irises moved to the upper part of his eyes, and gave him a smirk.  
“And you’re probably right, Steve,” he breathed, shaking away his expression as quickly as it had appeared, “I probably wouldn’t have told you if you had asked me. It’s helped a lot though. Just don’t go making that a normal thing or I’m going to get pissed.”  
Steve chuckled. On his computer screen, Bucky’s eyelids half closed as he hid a yawn behind his hand.  
“Do you want to sign off? We’ve been talking for three hours already and it’s one-thirty in the morning over there.”  
Bucky gave his head a slight shake. “In a minute. I have a question for you.”  
“Shoot.”  
“I don’t get it, Steve. Why did you drop everything for me? You’ve sacrificed your shield, your friends, your reputation, you’re home. Everything. I just don’t get it. We were best friends way back when but I’m not the Bucky you knew.”  
Bucky hadn’t addressed this in years. The words sat uncomfortably in the pit of Steve’s stomach as he mulled them over. He had difficulty putting his feelings and motives into words as he hadn’t really thought about it before. He didn’t have an answer.  
“I’ll have a better answer for you when I get back but, Buck, I’ve changed too. I’m not the same Steve Grant Rogers you met and fought alongside. What’s happened to us during our time apart was bound to change us.”  
After a silent pause, Bucky looked at Steve through the screen and said with little expression, as if trying to hide his true thoughts, “That wasn’t a satisfying answer.”  
Steve smirked. He never got tired of Bucky’s brutally honest way of thinking. It made him feel warm inside, like he was home- wherever that was.  
“I promise I’ll give you a better answer when we meet in person, Bucky.”

 

But Steve never got to tell him.

***

It had been a year. A whole _fucking_ year since Thanos’ snap wiped out half the universe’s population, including Bucky. That was the year that was the hardest year of his life; two years since 2016. Over the course of his existence, Steve had lost his Bucky again and again and again. This time was different though. Steve had watched the whole thing. He actually saw Bucky “die,” turn into ash and dust, with absolutely _nothing_ he could have done; no hand to catch this time. Guilt from Bucky’s fall off the train had lingered to the present and the heavy aching of that guilt and grief was increased when Steve had just _stood_ there in shock. He hadn’t moved, hadn’t spoken, had done nothing to comfort Bucky and instead he just stood there and watched as he disappeared away from him.

That was a thing of the past now. The Avengers and the Guardians had successfully brought them all back. It was over. It was finally over.  
All the heroes that were turned to dust were given asylum in T’Challa’s palace courtesy of Okoye. The rest of the Wakandans who had returned found places to rest, either in houses or given shelter by volunteers. Steve was pretty sure he was one of the only people who hadn’t been snapped to be in the palace besides one or two doctors wandering the halls. The other Avengers and Guardians had left for clean-up duty and helping out where they could.  
Steve had volunteered to go too but Natasha had pushed him back.  
“No. You’ve been through enough, Steve. You need to be here. Besides, you’re the only one he knows so you should be there when he wakes up.”  
He hadn’t even tried to fight back.  
Everyone who had been snapped returned where they had disappeared and were conscious. But it only took a few minutes for all of them to pass out. Tony said it had something to do with the toll of the stone on their brains. In the palace, victims were assigned rooms and laid on beds to sleep, scheduled to wake up in twelve hours or so.  
Steve was sitting on a chair in the living room. Bucky had been brought to Steve’s official temporary apartment here which he had barely used in the past but at least he and Bucky had privacy and no other bunk mates.  
Hands clasped in this lap and leaning forward in his elbows, Steve looked over at the closed bedroom door and sighed. His eyes were growing heavy. He hadn’t slept in weeks, but Steve had sworn to himself that he wouldn’t fall asleep until Bucky was awake.  
For the next twelve hours, Steve paced around the flat, desperately searching for anything to do to occupy his mind; but he was unable to focus on a single thing. His appetite was all but nonexistent so he didn’t even attempt cooking and he couldn’t go out for a walk to get fresh air, refusing to leave Bucky alone. Eventually, he just laid on the floor on an intricately designed rug and stared at a non-intricately designed ceiling.  
Too many thoughts scrambled for attention in his head, but one voice became louder than the others, shooing the rest away. 

_What are you going to say to him?_

The question he had pushed away for five years.

_What are you going to say to him?_

_-I don’t know._

_Well, you have all this free time until he wakes up to think about it. You can’t focus on anything else so why not pass the time formulating the things you need to tell him? Those things you have been wanting to say to him the instant you knew he was alive?_

_-No. Maybe later. When Bucky wakes up there will be more pressing subjects to discuss._

_Steve, you’ve had that mindset basically all your life-- pushing vulnerable thoughts away. You’ve been too caught up saving the world to care about yourself. Think about it, when you came out of the ice you ran off into the streets getting an unhealthily quick introduction to a new society. Before you had any time to adjust, you were off fighting some dumbass aliens with Loki wrecking havoc. Ever since then, Steve Rogers has hidden behind the mask of “Captain America.” Why?_

Steve was surprised by the voice in his head. He had never thought about it like that. Of course he had never thought about it. The voice was right though; Steve Rogers had been hiding behind the Captain America caricature since he woke up in 2012. 

_-I don’t know why. I don’t even know who I am anymore. How could I let this happen and how could I have been so stupid to not have noticed sooner?_

_Now, you don’t need to be so hard on yourself. But, yes, you’ve lost your sense of identity. You haven’t been Captain America for three years, just a fugitive. You voluntarily gave up your title when you went against the Accords and sided with Bucky. Despite the fact that the shield and the title are gone, you still haven’t let go of Captain of America now have you?_

_-But I don’t even know how to go back to Steve Rogers._

“Steve?”

Steve startled at the voice cutting through the silence and whipped open his eyes. Bucky was standing over him. He was wearing sweatpants and one of Steve’s t-shirts. His eyebrows were knitted together in concern and a slight frown pulled down the edges of his mouth.  
Still a little disoriented and discombobulated, Steve looked to his right where fading rays of the setting sun were stretched across the floor from the window.  
Wait. Wasn’t the sun just beginning to set a few hours ago? He must have gotten stuck in his head for longer than he thought. Suddenly there was a sharp pain behind his skull and his hands clutched the sides of his temple. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut. He was so confused. He was so unprepared. He was so overwhelmed.  
“Steve? Are you okay?” Bucky said with obvious concern. He knelt down so he was next to Steve.  
Sitting up quickly, Steve turned to Bucky whose face was etched with worry. Steve looked down to the floor and picked his cuticles with his nails.  
“I’m sorry Buck… I’m--” Before he knew what was happening, Steve was sobbing. Hot, salty tears, thick with melancholy, pooled in his eyes and streamed down his face. How could he be crying? Why wasn’t he supposed to be focusing more on Bucky? And his tears were hugging the edge of his nose causing an annoying itchy sensation which somehow made the situation more frustrating.  
His hands covered his face not only to hide his tears, but also to muffle the uneven and violent breaths he was taking.  
Steve’s mind was both empty and filled to the brim he couldn’t _think_. He felt something warm and weighted on him. His mind cleared. It was Bucky. Bucky had wrapped himself around Steve and was drawing lines up and down his back with his flesh hand.  
It took awhile for Steve’s weeping to cease and calm down but throughout that time Bucky hadn’t moved an inch. When there were no more harsh movements or tears, Bucky pulled away but left his hands firmly on Steve’s shoulders.  
“What do you have to be sorry for?” he asked quietly. He said it less like a question and more like a rhetorical statement. An invitation for Steve to talk.  
“I think,” Steve’s voice was hoarse and the room around him was slightly warped from dizziness, “I think we are overdue for a conversation, Bucky.”  
The man in front of him revealed a sympathetic smile. Bucky dropped his hands from Steve’s shoulders and took his hands instead, pulling Steve up.  
“Yes,” he said as he got Steve onto the couch, “I think we’re _long_ overdue, Stevie. Sit down, I’m going to get you a glass of water, you look awful.”  
“Might as well make some coffee too.” 

Bucky had returned shortly, handing Steve a glass of water before going back into the kitchen to brew up some coffee. Steve downed his water in one motion and placed the cup down on the coffee table. He had positioned himself so that his back was up against the arm of the couch and his legs tucked into his chest.  
A few minutes later, Bucky came back into the living room with two steaming mugs. He carefully handed one to Steve, trying not to spill it, before sitting on the couch himself, almost on Steve’s feet.  
They both took a long sip and Bucky placed his mug on the table while Steve wrapped his hands around the ceramic, absorbing the warmth it was emitting. Bucky was quiet, letting Steve begin the conversation when he was ready. Now that Thanos was gone, they had all the time in the world.  
“I don’t even know how to start. There are so many things, Buck. I can’t make them remotely coherent.”  
“You don’t have to say everything at once, Steve. Just start small.”  
Steve nodded and began speaking slowly, analyzing his words before he said them. “You noticed long before I did, didn’t you?” He gave Steve a quizzical look. “Noticed that Captain America was taking over Steve Rogers.”  
Bucky was silent for a minute. He turned away from Steve, searching his brain for the memory, organizing his words.  
“Yes. I noticed it not long after you rescued me from the HYDRA facility. But I didn’t say anything.”  
“Why?”  
“Well, at first, I was just too dumbstruck to really comprehend it. But after a little while, I just thought that you finally looked like the person you were on the inside. Slowly, though, you became more Captain America and less my Steve Rogers.”  
“So why didn’t you say anything?”  
Bucky sighed. “A couple of reasons. I thought that it would be better to tell you after the war because bigger conflicts required more of our attention. Plus, you looked so _happy._  
“Then I realized that after the war, you would probably marry Peggy Carter and you’d no longer need me anymore. I was going to at least bring it up, but then I fell off that train.”  
Steve felt _destroyed_. “Bucky, I’ll always need you in my life.”  
Bucky gave him a small smile. “It’s in the past now. But why are you bringing this up?”  
“Because you were right. Captain America did start to take over. And after I emerged from the ice, the world had changed so much and I had no time to adjust. I just hid. S.H.I.E.L.D. took advantage of that and before I knew it, they had thrown me back on the battlefield.  
“Everything new, everything lost, everybody I knew was gone. And in a world I didn’t understand, it’s easy to let people tell you what to do. So, Captain America took over me and Steve Rogers no longer existed.”  
Steve felt Bucky shift beside him and they didn’t say anything for awhile, soaking up everything that had just been proclaimed. Steve looked up into Bucky’s eyes, which were focused on the fabric of his sweatpants, and whimpered weakly, “I don’t know who I am anymore.”  
Bucky whipped his head up to look into Steve’s face. He looked both surprised and deeply sad, his eyes glassy. He reached up and wiped a tear off of Steve’s cheek with the pad of his thumb and gently took Steve’s mug and filled his empty hands with his own.  
“I can’t tell you who you are. I have no doubt that Captain America took control over you and there’s nothing you can do to change the past. But you’re a blank slate now, Steve. You have the opportunity to discover who you are _now._  
“If I’m not mistaken, I believe you said almost the exact same words to me right after I came out of cryo.” Bucky grinned and Steve flashed him a slight beam. “But you can’t be successful until you let go of Captain America.”  
“Have you let go of the Winter Soldier?”  
Bucky let out a low laugh. “No, that’s something I’m still working on, too. We can work on it together.”  
Steve gave a thorough nod of approval. “Don’t you think it’s crazy how with all of our years apart, all our changes, that we can still easily fit into each other’s lives?”  
“It’s definitely unusual and weird but I’m not complaining. Can I say something now?”  
“Yes, but I’ll probably have more to say at some point.”  
“Steve, I think we’ll need to have discussions like these for the rest of our lives. We’ve been through too much to get it all out in one night.” Bucky watched Steve as he nodded and a corner of his mouth turn upwards.  
“I’ve told you most of my story during my days just out of cryo. Do you remember when you created that clever plan of yours to drag my life as the Winter Soldier out of me? When I found out, do you remember the question I asked you?”  
“Do _you_? Bucky, it’s been more than a year.”  
“Well, you were busy trying to save the world again. I, on the other hand, in the Soul Stone, had plenty of time to ponder on it and imagine what your answer would have been. Have I waited long enough for your answer?”  
“I think you’ve waited more than enough. What was your question?”  
Bucky took a deep breath but didn’t break his gaze with Steve. “Why did you do everything you did for me? Sacrifice everything for me?”  
It was true that Steve had had enough time to come up with an answer, but he didn’t have one. He didn’t even have one the day he returned to Wakanda. Thanos had kind of gotten in the way for Bucky to ask him again. And then Bucky was gone. Once again Steve had failed his best friend.  
“I can see by your face that you haven’t really thought it through.”  
“No,” Steve admitted, “I haven’t. But despite that, I think I have an answer to your question.”  
“Really?” Bucky raised his eyebrows, his eyes filled with some sort of sad hope.  
“Well, answer ** _s_**. Bucky, we’ve been friends since we were kids. You were the only one in the entire universe besides Ma to give a shit about me and once I had you, I vowed never to willingly let you go. I would have fought the Nazis by myself if that meant you would stay with me. But I never even had to _try_ , Bucky, because you never wanted to leave me. With all my stubbornness, my nonstop gift to get into fights, all my ailments, you never left. I never would have left you either.”  
Bucky looked a little emotional and had gone back to admiring the fabric of his sweatpants. “But we’re not those people anymore,” he whispered.  
“No. We haven’t been those people since 1945. The thing is, Buck, is that when I got out of the ice, I was so alone. Sure, I made friends with the Avengers and I love them but none of them _know_ me and really only care about “Cap.” Not who Steve Rogers might be. I guess that’s another reason why it was so easy for that persona to engulf me. You _never_ saw me as Captain America, only as Steve Rogers.  
“Then I saw you on the bridge and my brain became so convoluted with thoughts and emotions. I barely registered that you were the Winter Soldier, brainwashed and under HYDRA’s control, but, even when I was dodging your attacks, I just kept thinking _Bucky, Bucky, Bucky_.”  
Then Steve changed his demeanor, knowing the words he was going to say next. He seemed to collapse in on himself.  
“I was filled with so much _guilt_. I felt guilty for not saving you from the train. When I realized that it was then that allowed HYDRA to get its hands on you, the contrition in me inflated.”  
“Do you still feel guilty for all that?”  
“Of course. More now than ever. And that whole year you were in the Soul Stone, I almost went insane from the remorse. I feel so guilty knowing that everything that happened to you was _my_ fault--”  
“Jesus Christ, Steve!” Bucky crawled even closer to Steve and brought their hands, which were still entwined together, to his chest. “Steve. Steve, you have to stop blaming yourself for this. It’s _not_ your fault and never in all of my life did I ever think it was. You need to let that go.”  
Steve dropped his head to rest on his outstretched arms and silent tears fell from his cheeks. “There’s something else…” his voice was so small and quiet and hurt and Steve could almost _hear_ the sound of Bucky’s heart breaking.  
“I don’t think it’s fate. I definitely don’t think it’s destiny. But I don’t necessarily think it’s coincidence either. But, Bucky, there is something about the two of us that makes it so we can never let go of the other. As if we’re somehow tied together. And there’s something about you that just feels like home.”  
Bucky looked up, staring directly into Steve’s eyes, and opened his mouth to confess the most surprising words Steve had ever heard from him.  
“I love you.”  
“What?”  
“I love you, Steve.”  
It was unexpected. Steve’s eyes darted back and forth between Bucky’s beautifully gray irises. Was it a joke? A trick? A misinterpretation? But Bucky was sincere, Steve knew. He suddenly realized that he was in love with Bucky too. Maybe, in some way or another, he had always had.  
Steve pulled his hands away from Bucky’s, grabbed his arms, and yanked his best friend towards him until their lips collided together and it was like everything somehow made sense in the world.  
After a minute, they broke apart to catch their breath, resting their foreheads against each other. Steve brought his hands up to rest on Bucky’s face. He whispered in equal sincerity, “I love you too.”  
Steve could feel the smile growing on Bucky’s face. A real one. A big one. One that would surely force his eyes to close shut. It was the happiest Steve had ever been. And with all the stress gone and replaced with adoration, his body had had enough and wanted to sleep. He leaned a little more weight on Bucky as his body tried to relax and collapse.  
“Oh my god, Steve. Really? Was it _that_ boring for you?”  
It was clearly a joke, but Steve had to defend himself. “No, it’s just, I haven’t slept at all in weeks.”  
“Not a wink?”  
“Not a wink.”  
“Steve! You’re a goddamn idiot. You’re back to being the stubborn one. Comeon, let’s get you to bed, punk.”  
Steve had never felt so warm after being teased. Bucky helped Steve to the only bedroom and dropped him onto the bed. Bucky got in next to him and opened his arms wide which Steve contently crawled into, resting his head on Bucky’s chest.  
“Good night, Buck.”  
“Good night, Stevie.”  
And then Steve fell immediately asleep knowing he had finally found his home.

***

Steve woke up feeling well-rested and exultant. It was strange to feel all of those emotions, especially combined together. He wasn’t sure if he had ever had the chance in his life to feel this way before now.  
Bucky was awake beside him. He looked so sweet. His hair looked so smooth, his skin looked so soft, his lips looked so kissable. Bucky was staring at the ceiling while Steve took a minute to admire him. His flesh arm was wrapped around Steve incredibly tightly but Steve found it comforting. His metal hand was drawing little circles on Steve’s chest.  
He seemed tense, staring up. “What’s on your mind?”  
Bucky looked down at him as he yawned. He broke out of Bucky’s death-grip to readjust himself.  
“I was just thinking.”  
“Thinking about what? You look pretty anxious.”  
Steve was searching Bucky’s features as the man picked at the creases in the sheets.  
“I’ve been thinking about it all night. I was just thinking that this never would have happened if things had got normally for us. I would either be dead or married and you would probably be with Peggy.”  
Steve was taken aback. “Yeah, that’s probably true…”  
“Do you still love Peggy?”  
“I think a part of me will always love her, Bucky.”  
“If she could be brought back, would you choose her?”  
Was Bucky jealous? Steve didn’t understand why they were having this conversation at all. “Why are you asking me these things?”  
Bucky avoided looking up and his voice had become less than a squeak. “Because you’re the only person I know and I don’t want to have to be alone. I don’t want to be alone again. Not even the thought of it.”  
Oh. Oh, Bucky. He was so scared of loving someone due to vulnerability and potentially for being left by his lonesome again. A piece of his heart tore.  
“Bucky, you will never, ever be alone again because I’m never leaving your side again. I’m never going to let you go. And if somehow, someway, Peggy were to come back, I’d still choose to be with you because you’re the one I love right now. The one I have loved more than anyone else. You’re the one I’m more than happy to love for the rest of my life.”  
Finally Bucky looked up at Steve. He began to cry. Steve curled around so he was in front of Bucky. Gently, he touched some of his soft, brown hair and tucked it behind his ear and brought his sweetheart into his arms.  
“And if it makes you feel any better,” Steve continued, whispering into Bucky’s ear, “I think in some weird way that I don’t really understand, I’ve loved you all my life. Even back when we were young.”  
“I feel the same way.”  
Steve pulled away and wiped Bucky’s tears. Placing his hands on each side of him, Steve said, “I love you,” giving him a kiss on one cheek, “I love you,” a kiss on the other, “I love you,” and finally and eager kiss on the lips.  
Bucky opened his mouth for Steve and grabbed at him. Steve pushed Bucky back into the sheets and clothes were stripped off. He looked down at Bucky and smiled, dragging his hand across Bucky’s chest and slowly making his way lower and lower.  
“I fucking love you,” Steve said, kissing Bucky again.  
“I fucking love you, too.”

 

 

It was shortly after that that Captain America and the Winter Soldier died.

 

 

But the new Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes were just being born. They would continue to love each other:  
_“To the end of the line.”_


End file.
